


Exorcism

by lennongirl



Category: Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Blindfolds, Consensual Kink, Gags, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-16
Updated: 2013-05-16
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:42:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennongirl/pseuds/lennongirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anger management.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exorcism

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Never happened, I have no idea what I'm talking about, no money will be made, made it all up, lies, fiction etc… 
> 
> Written in April 2004.

_“Even if I was tied up from here to here [motions] with a rope and blindfolded, I could still imagine a photograph. I could still tell myself a story in my mind, even if I was, you know, bound and gagged.”_

~Viggo Mortensen~

 

Viggo knows. Viggo knows Orlando, sometimes better than Orlando knows himself. There are lot of things Orlando doesn’t need to say. Viggo knows them anyway.

Today’s been one of those days for Orlando everybody hates. One of those days you wake up and everything just goes downwards from there. Days when you just don’t feel like smiling, days on which you’re better off alone. When nothing seems to fall into place. It needn’t be anything major, just small things that eat you up, bit for bit. And you swallow them all. But there’s a point when you can’t take it anymore. And Orlando has had one of these days, he has almost reached that point. And now it’s late already, but Orlando doesn’t sleep. He’s too stressed to find peace tonight; he’s too worked up to relax. 

He hasn’t told Viggo any of that, but he doesn’t need to. Because Viggo knows. 

He can see it in his whole behaviour. The way he’s sitting on the bed, focussing on the novel he’s reading in, much more concentrated than usual. The way his forehead is frowned and the corners of his mouth are pointing down. The way his whole body is tensed, as if he’s waiting to jump any second, while he’s supposed to relax after such a day. The way he’s avoiding any form of communication, the way he’s answering Viggo’s questions, if he answers them at all: with short, clipped remarks. Leave me alone is what he’s really trying to say. But he doesn’t, and Viggo knows why. Orlando wouldn’t want to start a fight just because; wouldn’t want to use Viggo to get rid of his anger. 

But that’s exactly what Viggo wants him to do. Viggo respects Orlando’s decision not to talk about what’s bothering him. He doesn’t feel rejected or not trustworthy, he knows that sometimes, Orlando just doesn’t want to talk.

However, Viggo wants to help him. And he knows just too well how to make Orlando come undone, to set his anger free, to help him get rid of whatever’s eating him.

Viggo leaves the bedroom and fetches his camera. He returns and starts taking pictures of Orlando, without even aiming for a certain shot first. He just snaps him, tries to madden him even further.

Click.

Usually, Orlando doesn’t mind Viggo taking pictures of him. Usually, it takes a lot to make him complain, a lot to make his cheeky smile disappear until he chews on his lips, unsure of how to approach the matter that’s bothering him. Like the way he does now.

Click.

“Vig, please,” he says without looking up.

Viggo ignores it. He moves onto the bed, kneels down next to Orlando. He zooms in on Orlando’s mouth, sees him grinding his teeth.

Click.

“Vig, seriously, I’m not on the mood. Just stop it, yeah?” 

Viggo zooms in on Orlando’s forehead, sees a vein pulsating just above his temple.

Click.

“Viggo, fuck, stop!” Now he looks up, anger burning clearly in his eyes. “I’ve said I’m not in the mood, so just leave it!”

Viggo smiles inwardly as he zooms back out, capturing Orlando’s whole face now. Annoyance. Anger. Enragement. And a bit of fear is there as well; Orlando’s afraid he might be harsher to Viggo than he’d ever want to. But Viggo can take it, he knows it’s not about him, and he needs Orlando to feel better. He can’t stand to see him like that. That’s another reason for him to take pictures. He wants to transfer the anger from Orlando’s mind onto the film.

Click. Click.

“You fucker, Viggo, STOP!”

Orlando reaches out, tries to take the camera away. But Viggo’s faster and stretches his arm until the camera’s out of Orlando’s reach.

“Make me stop,” he offers. Make me stop and use me to get rid of your anger, he thinks.

Orlando shakes his head furiously, snorts and turns his attention back to his book. 

Click. Click. Click.

“Viggoooo…” it’s a ‘better-be-careful’ all put into the two syllables.

Click. Click. Click.

Orlando tosses his book aside, turns faster than Viggo would’ve thought and pushes him back onto the mattress. He catches his wrists and brings them down above Viggo’s head. 

“You stop right here and now,” he hisses and steadies Viggo’s wrists with one hand, taking the camera away from him with the other. “You got me? No more pictures.”

Viggo smirks at him. 

Orlando snorts again. He moves until he’s sitting on Viggo’s lap, still holding him in his place. “Guess I’m the one in charge now. So, if I release you, will you just stop taking pics?”

“No.”

“Bugger. What are you trying to achieve here? You wanna fight? ‘Cause that’s what this might lead to.” 

“Just make me stop then.”

“Just let it be, okay?”

“I won’t.”

“You’re a wanker sometimes, Mortensen. I might just tie you up to make you stop using your fucking camera.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh yeah?” Orlando leans over, opens the lowest drawer of Viggo’s nightstand and pulls out the handcuffs. He’s silent while he chains Viggo to the headboard.

“That should stop you from bothering me.”

Viggo chuckles. “Orlando, you should know me better. I don’t need the camera to take pictures of you. I see you, that’s enough.” Viggo’s voice drops lower. “I can still see you, the distressed look on your face. I can still see how angry you are. And I can still see what the pictures I’d take would look like if…”

“Viggo! I don’t need that shit right now! Shut up and stop staring at me, dammit!”

“Make me,” Viggo answers and holds Orlando’s angry look. 

“Viggo, I’m serious. Why do you do all that? You know I’m pissed off as it is, yeah?”

Viggo tries to shrug as much as he can under the given circumstances. “So? What’s your problem? Can’t make me stop, huh?”

Orlando howls and reaches into the drawer again, pulls out the silk black scarf and ties it around Viggo’s eyes. 

Blackness surrounds Viggo. 

“That all you can do, Orlando?”

“Just shut up now,” he sighs.

“I won’t. You know what’s on my mind. It’s you. And now you realize I’m tied and blindfolded, and I’m *still* taking mental pictures of you. You can’t take that away from me, no, you can’t deprive me of that. And oh my, how that annoys you. Isn’t that right, Orlando?”

“Shut up.”

“I see it… you frown, you grind your teeth, your muscles tense…I see it all, see the way you’re looking at me right now. You’re still pissed off, yeah, but there’s something else now, isn’t there? Your anger’s slowly being replaced by arousal, as you realize what you’ve just done. Just look at me, Orlando, look at what you’ve done to me.”

“Shut…up.” He’s much more subdued now, his words almost come out like a plea, and Viggo can actually *see* the mixed emotions running across his face.

“You’re quieter now, but that doesn’t mean you’ve calmed down. I’m still annoying you; only now, you’re not sure whether you should slap or fuck me.”

Orlando moves and Viggo can feel his erection brushing against his thighs. He’s there, almost. 

“That will shut you up,” Orlando snarls as he gags Viggo with the second scarf. He climbs off Viggo when he’s finished. “Think you can fool around with me like everyone else? Think you can use me for your twisted games, Viggo? Just like they all do?” 

Orlando’s voiced has risen again. He pulls Viggo’s briefs off in a hurried haze and Viggo hears some more rustling of clothes. “I tied you, I blindfolded you, I gagged you, and you’re still playing with me, ain’t that right?” He’s almost yelling by now.

Viggo smirks underneath his gag. Just use me, he begs silently. Use me and get rid of your demons.

A tube is opened; lube is being squeezed out.

“You want to fuck me like everybody does, Viggo? Tell you what, you won’t. ‘Cause right now, I will be the one fucking you. So you see what it’s like.”

Orlando’s finger pushes in, not as gentle as usual, but it doesn’t hurt. Viggo doesn’t need much time to relax, so a second follows almost immediately, and Orlando works fast on stretching Viggo.

“You’re so greedy, yeah? Everybody wants their share of me and you’ll get your special one now. I’ll make you stop messing with me, Viggo. I’ll make you shut up. I’ll make you stop taking your fucking pictures. ‘Cause that’s what it’s always about, pictures, yeah? No more.”

The fingers inside Viggo scissor and the gag swallows his moan as Orlando hits his prostate. Viggo can still see him, although he’s blindfolded. He sees Orlando’s erection, proud and strong and leaking from its tip, he sees the desire and arousal in the brown eyes. He watches the sweat breaking out on Orlando’s forehead as he tries to channel his anger into the way he’s finger-fucking Viggo without actually hurting him. Viggo draws his own arousal from this mental image.

The fingers withdraw and the tube makes another squeezing sound.

“You still think you can see me, Viggo? Then watch this.”

And Viggo does. He watches Orlando’s eyes flutter shut when he pushes his cock into him. Watches his mouth becoming softer with every thrust. He’s not grinding his teeth anymore and his lips change from pressed to relaxed. Viggo watches as they eventually part, maybe to form a sound, and the visual becomes reality when Orlando lets out a moan.

His movements are rushed, almost erratic, and he pounds in and out of Viggo as if there’s no tomorrow. He picks up the pace once more, as if he attempts to tear Viggo apart. What they both know is that Viggo could make him stop every time; he could always use the signal. But Viggo doesn’t, so Orlando just fucks, fucks, fucks him. 

He’s so strong, Viggo thinks, and he hopes that he’ll be able to use this strength in the future, on another day like this one, a day on which Viggo can’t be there for him.

Viggo knows the young man’s getting ready to come undone soon, to lose himself inside Viggo any moment, and Viggo brings his knees up behind Orlando’s back, forcing him to enter him even deeper. Orlando, in return, squeezes a hand between both their bodies and wraps it around Viggo’s cock, fisting it in rhythm with his thrusts. 

“Viggo…you…god…” Orlando pants, he’s about to let go, about to free himself. And when he climaxes, he does so with a howl that’s almost scary, making him sounds like a wild beast. He still keeps on pounding into Viggo, coming, fucking and jerking Viggo off at the same time, and when Viggo has come as well and Orlando has finished all of his sexual multitasking, he falls down onto Viggo’s body.

It takes Orlando two, maybe three minutes to calm down and come back from wherever he went. He moves, slowly, and begins to free Viggo without saying a word. The blindfold goes first and Viggo scans Orlando’s face while he unties him further. Orlando doesn’t look him in the eye, but Viggo sees the change in him anyway. The anger’s gone. What’s left is worry, nervousness, maybe even fear.

As soon as he’s free, Viggo draws Orlando into his arms. He holds him close, as close as he can, stroking his head that’s lying on Viggo’s chest.

“You feel better now?” 

Orlando nods. 

“That’s good.”

“Yes… Viggo, what just happened…I…I’m…”

“Hush now. Don’t.” Viggo cups Orlando’s face and lifts it until both men’s eyes meet. “I know you love me, Orlando. And I love you. Nothing else is important right now.”

Orlando sighs and blinks the tears away. “You…God, Viggo. Thank you.”

Viggo leans over and kisses him, all sweet and tender, and Orlando kisses him back in the same way.

They both indulge in the kiss for some time, until Orlando eventually breaks it. He tries hard to hold back a yawn, but Viggo notices it anyway.

“Tired, hm?”

“Yeah…”

“Let’s get some sleep then.” 

“Vig…can you just hold me a bit longer?” 

“Of course.”

Viggo watches as the young man’s breathing becomes calmer, watches him fall asleep. And Orlando will have a good rest now; he’ll have a peaceful sleep at last. He might tell Viggo about it in the morning, or maybe he won’t. It’s not necessary anyway.

Because Viggo already knows.

~The End~


End file.
